Smiling through the Tears

I should be celebrating that I’m nearing the end of chemotherapy, but as I get closer to the end, the more depressed I seem to get. Today was one of the worst days I’ve had in a long time. I’ve pretty much cried the whole day for a myriad of reasons. First, I’m still in a lot of pain. I stopped taking the pain medicine Friday morning, just because it causes constipation and I hate to be on it longer than a week. I have finally realized for the remainder of my time with these poisonous drugs in my body, I will have to be on pain medicine. The body aches go away after about five to six days, but the pain in my feet is constant and now it is starting to remain in my hands too. I’ve also been having pain in my left breast from time to time – and I mean stabbing pain that lasts for about five minutes. I hope that it is my breast and not my heart. They say chemo weakens the heart and they did an echocardiogram prior to chemo to get a baseline reading – I wonder if they will do one afterwards to see how much damage was done. Regardless, I can’t figure out the cause of that stabbing pain – it happens usually a couple of times a week. I will wait until my next doctor’s appointment to ask about it.

Second, I was invited to go to the Susan G. Komen for the Cure of Greater Atlanta’s Pink Power Party which was held tonight. However, as bad as I felt this morning, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go. I can’t even put on a shoe with a low heel my feet are in so much pain. I’ve quit wearing normal shoes to work because I wear tennis shoes everywhere now. It infuriates me that my body won’t allow me to do the things I want to do. Last night I went out to dinner with my family to celebrate my mother’s birthday. I hurt all through dinner and after dinner my mom and I stopped by a local specialty grocery store and PetSmart since it was right next door, but it was painful the entire time and it was extremely tiring trying to go through both stores. And when I woke up this morning, I could barely get out of bed. The more I push my body, the worse I feel. It is extremely frustrating that I can’t do things I want to do due to the pain and fatigue and it makes you feel like a prisoner.

Third, I’m starting to focus more on the upcoming mastectomy surgery more. The idea of waking from a five-hour procedure and both my breasts will be gone is VERY upsetting. It’s not they are the greatest, but they are mine. MINE. I know they are sick and I know they need to be taken away, but the thought of waking up without them is indescribable and I think I’m already beginning to mourn that loss.

Finally, as I’m crying and watching TV this morning, I see a commercial of a mother who has just given birth, holding her newborn and it set me over the edge. I know that I will never go through that and it breaks my heart. Anything that has to do with mothers giving birth on TV, in movies, etc. just makes me cry. I’m not sure what it will take for me to come to terms with the fact I will never bear my own children when that’s all I’ve ever dreamed of my whole life.

Even with this depression, I know this whole process has made me stronger than I’ve ever imagined. Not only has it tested the strength of my body and what it can endure, it has also challenged me mentally. My whole life I’ve been a glass half-full person, yet here I sit today, only two and a half weeks from the end of chemo and I’m not celebrating. I don’t understand why I’m not. I should be and how far I’ve come since June 29, but I can’t. All I’m doing is focusing on the fear of the upcoming surgery and all that follows. It’s still a very long road ahead and even though I know that road will not be anywhere near as painful as the one that’s almost behind me, I’m still sad. I think this has to do with the fact that I’m a planner. I want to know when radiation will start and end and my doctors can’t tell me that because they can’t start it until my surgery wounds heal entirely and with me being on blood thinner shots, they have no idea how fast I will heal. I also want to know when we will be ready to do the reconstruction surgery and they can’t tell me that because I have no idea how long it will take to stretch the skin with the extenders and they can’t start that until after radiation ends. At work, all I’m doing is doing planning for 2010 and I can’t plan for myself – it’s frustrating. I’ve got a work trip scheduled for June 20 and I have no idea if I will have had my reconstruction surgery by then and again, that frustrates me and tests my patience. I wish I could just roll with the punches, take things as they come, realize that I’m not in control of the situation and just let it go. Yet when I’m at work, I’m doing all this planning and I think that is what has caused this frustration with the lack of scheduling of my medical journey.

Just this week I’ve decided to do a little documenting of my cancer battle. I haven’t taken any pictures really other than my initial short haircut and wig shopping. I’ve been afraid of taking a picture of myself bald. I don’t know why – probably because I think I look ugly. I thought I wouldn’t want to remember it, but I realize now I need to. I bought a shirt that says, “Cancer Sucks” with a pink ribbon exclamation point and I’m going to wear it when I take the picture. I’m also going to do my first nude picture in my life. I’m going to wear a hat a friend gave to me that says “Save the Ta-Tas” and take a picture of me wearing it and showing my own boobs before the mastectomy, just so I can remember what they used to look like. Please note, neither photo will be posted in my Facebook photo page (grin), but they will be for me. I know it seems silly, but for me, I just never want to forget this battle I’ve been through. I’m sure I’ll add a few more strange ones along the way like when I get my radiation tattoos or post-mastectomy when my breasts are gone.

I was also able to speak to my friend who battled leukemia I spoke of in my last blog this week. I was such a great phone call – we laughed some and cried some and it was just so great to hear her voice. It sucks that it has taken cancer for the two of us to reconnect, but I know I’ll be in contact with her more from now on out. She’s become a source of strength and inspiration for me. When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I didn’t want to confide or speak with anyone else who has had cancer even though I had many great people reach out to me. I was just too scared due to the fear of the unknown – I was petrified and wanted to be in the dark. She reached out at just the right time and I’m ready to have that person in my life now to be able to relate to and I’m glad she’s the one. I guess a greater power sends people to us just at the right time and I’m extremely grateful she’s in my life now.

I know many of you keep asking about dates of things, so here’s what is coming up:
Thursday, Oct. 22 – Final Chemotherapy treatment
Wednesday, Nov. 4 – appointment with the plastic surgeon (final one before the mastectomy)
Tuesday, Nov. 10 – appointment with the gynecological oncologist (hopefully to schedule surgery to have my ovaries and fallopian tubes removed)
Thursday, Nov. 19 – mastectomy surgery (skin saving mastectomy, port removal and insertion of the extenders to prepare for the breast reconstruction surgery – I will be in the hospital for a couple of days and out of work for two weeks).

As for this last note, my mom told me I needed to clarify this as she said she was confused when she read the press release. When I spoke about the “Helmet of Hope” with the Jimmie Johnson Foundation in a previous blog, Jimmie’s Foundation didn’t donate the money to me, they donated it to the Susan G. Komen for the Cure Greater Atlanta chapter in my name/my honor. A media member wrote into the Jimmie Johnson Foundation to nominate the Atlanta Komen chapter in my honor. What makes all of this even cooler is Jimmie won the race in California last weekend when he ran that paint scheme. Mom and I ordered t-shirts to support the cause. You can too if you want as proceeds from sales of the t-shirts goes directly to the 12 charities on his helmet, which the Atlanta Komen chapter was one of those 12, and you can purchase the shirts here: http://jimmiejohnson.shop.sportstoday.com/Product.aspx?cp=15833_16010&pc=JJCT072#.

Thanks to everyone’s continued notes of support and encouragement. You’d think I’d be handling things better at this point, but there’s no guidebook to the cancer path. Let’s hope I can start getting into a celebration mood more than the depressed place I’ve been lately. I’m finding times I can smile through the tears and that’s a great feeling.

With love to you all,
Marcy